


bloom

by 39raselgeuse



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, Lady Stoneheart arc, Post - A Dance With Dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24959329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/39raselgeuse/pseuds/39raselgeuse
Summary: there's snow, and jaime stops brienne on their way to an uncertain future.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 16
Kudos: 42





	bloom

**Author's Note:**

> not a native english speaker and this wasnt beta'ed, you are all warned!!!  
> the premise of the fic is brienne leading jaime to stoneheart so yeah, she's betraying him here

Brienne shifted in the saddle uncomfortably. The two weeks she had been forced to spend with the Brotherhood without Banners to heal her wounds had took a toll on her and, for the first time in years, her muscles ached painfully where the saddle met her thighs. It was a poor old thing, hard and worn out, but Brienne hadn’t dare to ask for her own. It was hurting the mare too; she could tell by the way the horse wobbled every time she tried to spur her.

Brienne closed her eyes, feeling the cold light of the sun against her face. She never allowed herself to think about the pain —there was so much. The cold had made the burning of her cheek even more pointing, and the ache in her bones was a constant reminder of the horrors of the last months of war. But she had grown used to most of that; it was still her heart where it hurt the most.

Jaime, something beat inside herself. She had repeated his name in her head so many times that it had almost lost its meaning. But not enough it seemed, for it still had the power to destroy her. She would —she had already failed him. A familiar dreadful heat settled in her body, and she felt the bridle sliding through her sweaty hands.

She opened her eyes, searching for him. He had suddenly stopped their march, some minutes ago, claiming that he needed to _take a piss_. Brienne had purposely looked the other way, allowing him some space. Modesty seemed to have made him wander because she couldn’t see him now. _Strange_ , he never took such courtesies before.

He should have been back already, by any means. Brienne had lost count of time as she enjoyed the stillness of the morning, but now she felt the weight of the time passed. She dismounted quickly, the fear making her body lighter and heavier all at once.

“Jaime?” she asked. There was no answer though, and Brienne turned around to search for something, anything: a sound, an echo, a movement in the corner of her eye.

She turned around and her face met hardness and cold. It took her way too long to understand that what had just crashed against her face had been snow. She wiped her face with her hands, and then stared in disbelief at the snow melting over her reddened fingers.

His laugh was what finally brought her back to reality, and the wave of relief washing over her was so strong that she felt her knees weaken. He was standing beside a tree with the sun lighting his hair aflame in different tones of golden and cupper. She had thought him handsome before, bald and thin and bitter, but now there was something otherworldly to his beauty.

“Glad to know I still can aim with my left,” he said, a smug smirk on his lips as he bent down to start making another ball. “Gods, you should have seen your face,’ he went on, smiling to himself in a way that made her heart throb. ‘I thought you would never get off that horse, wench. You used to be so much better at guarding me.”

Brienne felt the tears pooling in her eyes at that. _He is such a child_ , she thought. He looked ten years younger since the last time she had seen him while she looked at least ten times older. He had seen twice as much as her, and way worse, and lived through a war she had only known from stories, and yet here he was: a summer knight in the dawn of winter.

That a man that had laid with his own sister and throw a kid through a window could remain this pure was a wonder that Brienne often failed to understand. But it was a miracle that helped her keep her faith in the darkest days. _Days like this one_ , she thought with anger and sadness and exhaustion.

“I wanted to do this, back in the camp —it’s nice that I don’t have to hold back with you,” he was laughing again, as he stood up with his new weapon in hand. “Come on, wench, chastise me.”

The weight of being in love with him hit her at once, merciless. A feeling that had been lurking inside her for long, but that she had not dared to name. He was pure and alive and full of fire, and how could she not be in love with him? In a world that had no place for compassion or beauty, he had shown her both. _I have to protect him_ , she thought and the urge to do so was so strong that it made her shiver.

She let herself fall to the nearest trunk, fearing that her legs would fail her at any moment. Jaime was at her side in a second, and the tears that she had held back so carefully ended up rolling down her cheeks anyway.

“You are crying,” he said with a voice so soft that she almost missed it. “Have I said something to offend you, my lady?”

Looking away, she shook her head.

There wasn’t anything that she would have wanted more at that moment that being left alone to allow herself to feel. She didn’t want him to comfort her —she didn’t deserve that. But she couldn’t hold it back any longer either.

“No,” she said. “It’s nothing, really.”

Jaime squatted down to examine her face with a seriousness that she had rarely seen in him. She held his gaze in an attempt to appear defying, but the transparent clarity of his eyes disarmed her.

“You have done nothing but brooding ever since we left” he started, tilting his head to get a better look at her face. “It’s my company such a dreadful thing? If I didn’t know any better, I would think you hate me.”

It felt like being torn apart. “I would never--". She wanted to tell him she loved him, and the thought was so violent it startled her. But she couldn’t say it, she couldn’t, she had no right to. Not when she was about to betray him, not when she knew they both would be death by the end of the day. She just couldn’t tell him when she heard the steps approaching from the shadows, the distinct sound of leather boots crushing snow all around them.

She didn’t dare to look at him when she saw them coming.


End file.
